Stranger Than Fantasy
by HummingEnigma312
Summary: Life is rather odd for first impression never truly reveal a soul. Blinded by so many colors, boxes, and labels, one can hardly see the truth. And yet, at opposing sides of the spectrum, curiosity as well as stubbornness , draws two very dynamics together. The courage follow one's heart is always the strongest forces in nature, hopefully, for this duo as well. AU & OOC
1. Not So Simple

**Not So Simple  
**

* * *

**A/N: I'm taking a short break from the other story, but I've always been interested in Bumblebee. Of course, alternate universe, mildly (heavily) suggested themes. Enjoy.**

* * *

Blake Belladonna was minding her own business in her corner of the world when an angel of destruction named "Yang" came crashing into her life. Literally, Yang crashed into her. Blake was quietly reading the same worn book. The binding was nearly frayed and the pages were stained with sunlight. She was sitting quietly in the park, just under the shade of a large cypress tree. The long branches sheltered Blake from the cruelty of the outside world. The softwood tree swayed gently in the breeze. Blake turned the pages slowly, so engrossed in the story that she scarcely noticed the novice skate boarder losing control.

A myriad of branches splintered and rained upon Blake before she was knocked over by a large mass of blonde hair. A combination of bristles, paper, and curses filled the air.

"Geez," Blake grunted and tossed the heavy weight off of her, "Watch were you're going?!"

"Come on," the blonde responded, "It wasn't _that_ bad."

"My book!" Blake screeched as she noticed the pages blowing gently in the wind. "No, no, no, no, no!" She scrambled to the collect the pages, but in only in vain. Many of the pages were crushed or crumpled and the binding of the book was completely ripped apart. She rounded on the blonde girl and looked her stared her down straight in the eye.

"My board!" the blonde retaliated, "It's cracked! How did you do that!?" From the nose of the board to the front truck, a large, ugly crack marred the board.

"You idiot! That book was priceless!"

"Me! That board took forever to make!"

Practically in the each other's faces, pure anger radiated and nearly melted the poor cypress tree. Blake was the first to recover.

"Go away," she growled quietly and sat back down. She put her full attention to her destroyed book as she tried to put the pages in some sort of order.

"I know you," the blonde said angrily, "You go to Beacon, don't you?"

The raven-haired girl's silence only further enraged the blonde. A set of lilac eyes bore into Blake with ferocity.

"Do you even know who I am?"

"Yang Xiao Long," Blake replied coolly, "I know of you."

"Then you know you owe me."

Nothing made her blood boil more than someone who expected things to b given. Life was unfair, things had to be earned; one way or the other. "My," Blake grinned viciously, "You're skin is glowing."

"What's that's supposed to mean?!"

"Who's the father? The football team?"

"You!" Yang huffed, picked up her cracked board and stormed off.

Blake waited until Yang was out of sight before breathing a sigh of relief. It could've gone much worse. Despite the crumpling and undone binding, her book wasn't wholly destroyed. Normally, she shouldn't have shot her mouth off like that, but the book she held was priceless in the sentimental way. Just when Blake thought her situation was fully at peace, a shrill voice called out.

"Yang! Yaaaang! Where are you?"

Blake turned toward the origin of the sound and sighed. A small girl, probably not even 16, was walking in her direction. Blake tried to make herself look unavailable but the little girl in red came anyway.

"Excuse me?" the little girl asked quiet as she approached Blake.

"Yes?"

"You wouldn't have happened to see my sister, would you? Tall, long blonde hair, kinda loud?" The little girl had those big grey eyes Blake couldn't simply ignore. Almost like a puppy begging for a treat, the girl was searching for her sister.

"That way," Blake gestured and went back to fixing her book.

"Thank you!" the little girl beamed running off.

Blake watched from the corner of her eye, as the little girl disappeared of the hill. She had enough social interaction for the day. Blake rose from her bench and walked down the cobble path, book clutched firmly in hand. The sunlight was slowly dying at this time. Brilliant yellow was replaced with a sickly orange hue and the surrounding greenery was tinted oddly. Dusk was Blake's least favorite part of the day. The transition between day and night always irked her the same way consecutive keys on a piano didn't sound good when played together. There was no complimenting a similar note, just as there's no sense of complimentary blending with a similar color of light. Contrast—that was what dusk lacked.

Blake drew her tweed jacket just a little closer as a cool breeze swept across the street. She knew it was getting late when the street lamps started to flicker on. She was nearly home, so she paid little mind to the noises natural to a city: the hum of lights, the groans of car engines, and the whoosh of air squeezing between slim alleys. It wasn't perfect, but it was home.

On the corner of Knight and 6th Street, Blake ducked into a shoddy apartment building. Her kinder friends insisted the building had character, but Blake knew it was a dump. The pipes were loud and leaked often. The walls were thin and broke easily. The locks were rusted and she'd cracked a lock or two. The facade was a mostly red brown brick dotted with a few window, some of which cracked or broken. As she climbed several flights, Blake frowned at the lateness of the hour. It was nearly ten o'clock and she hated to Gram up that late.

Blake jimmied the stubborn lock of the door open and was suddenly greeted with the scent of honey tea. Gram was definitely up.

"I'm home," Blake announced as she stepped onto the hardwood flooring. "Gram?"

"In the kitchen dear," a frail voice responded, "Just making a cup before bed."

Blake turned right into the kitchen and saw her grandmother sitting at the table with two cups of tea: one in her hands, the other across from her. Blake's grandmother was a simple lady. She was a librarian for some years and loved every book she read. Her soft amber eyes were full of sadness and hope every time Blake saw her. As delicate she seemed Gram was quit adept at making coffee and repairing books. Blake was always astounded when she saw her grandmother at work. Like a pianist flowing from one note to the next, Gram would lace pages with ease and gently glue their binding to a spine. It was practically magic before Blake's eyes.

"I," Blake winced, "There was an accident." She showed Gram her partially destroyed book.

"Not a problem," Gram smiled taking the book, "Ah, I remember this one. How far are you?"

"A fair way in, the hero is about to obtain what they were looking for." Blake sat down, across from Gram, and picked up her tea.

"Oh so they haven't met the—"

"Spoilers, Gram. Spoilers." Blake smiled and took a sip from her tea. The faint taste of honey was pleasant and smooth

"It's Sunday night," Gram reminded, "You should get some rest."

"Wait. Wasn't I supposed to help you with the shop?"

"No, it's fine. You need your education."

"Gram, it's just school," Blake pleaded. Gram didn't _need _help around the store, but Blake felt she needed company.

"Blake," Gram shook her head, "Every story needs a happy ending. And I promise you won't find yours inside a dusty, old bookstore. Now off to bed."

As much as Blake wanted to protest, she wouldn't allow herself. Quietly, she finished her tea as Gram leafed through the book.

"Night," Blake kissed her grandmother on the cheek and walked quietly to her room. The dim moon beams spilled into her room but Blake didn't want to turn on the light. She enjoyed the dimness and quietness as she slipped beneath her covers.

* * *

**A/N: It's late. I have no idea why I'm posting this. Ideas, criticisms, or the like; please review.**


	2. Underneath It All

**Underneath It All**

* * *

Yang awoke at 5:30 in the morning to the sound of a door slamming and tires squealing. A sick feeling pegged her in the gut and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and die. Something made her get out of bed, grab a sweater and walk through her own version of hell. Her door opened into an empty, tiled hallway. Down the hall was the stairs, to the left was Ruby's room and a bathroom; lastly, an ajar master bedroom door to her right. Yang let a small smile creep onto her face when she glanced at Ruby's door. On it was a dry erase board with Ruby's name written on it and drawings of cookies surrounding it. Yang learned a curious ear onto her sister's door. Ruby was sleeping soundly, much to Yang's relief.

Quietly, Yang closed the master bedroom door and walked slowly down the stairs. The kitchen lights were on. The recessed lighting illuminated many things: dark spruce cabinets, a stainless steel dishwasher, brown, speckled granite, and several bar stools near the island stove top. One of which was occupied by a black-haired, grey–eyed woman. Her short black hair was a tad unkempt but Yang wouldn't hold it against her. Nor would she question the darken bags under her eyes or the angry scowl on her face.

Yang walked over to the coffee maker and started to make a pot. French vanilla, like she always did. She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of milk and the creamer. She grabbed two mugs from the spruce cabinet and waited for the coffee to finish. When it did, Yang poured evenly into the cups and prepared the coffee like she always did; two spoonfuls of sugar, a splash of creamer, and a little milk to cool it down. She blew gently and handed at cup to the grey-eyed woman.

"Here Mom," Yang sighed sitting beside her.

Yang's mother nodded thanks but didn't reply. Yang was slightly relived.

"Ruby's still asleep," Yang took a sip, "I'll drive her to school myself."

A smile appeared on the older woman's lips.

"It's going to be okay," Yang leaned on her mother's arm, "Not alright, but okay."

Her mother put an arm around her and squeezed knowingly. "That's my girl," she said through a set of blinked back tears, "Keep moving forward."

The two sat in silence until 6:00 in the morning. By then, Yang's mother had left for work at the hospital and Ruby started to wake up. Somewhere between half a dream, Ruby came down the stairs in her pajamas and poured herself a messy bowl of cereal.

"Morning Yang," ruby said munching on her cereal, blissfully unaware to the concern in her sister's eyes.

"Morning," Yang replied taking a sip from her almost empty cup. "Come on sleepy head, pick up the pace."

"Ff 'okay," Ruby grumbled rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. She lobbed a mess of cereal into her mouth and more or less, she hit her mark. Some of it splashed onto the counter and Ruby lazily wiped it off with the sleeve of her pajamas.

Yang suppressed a knowing grin and gave herself time to get ready. She knew she didn't have to baby Ruby. But at times, it felt right to have some control of the situation. After all, what are older sister's for.

* * *

"Oh my god we're going to die. Oh my god we're going to die. Oh my god…we're going to die!" Ruby chanted hopelessly as Yang pushed her small sedan to the limits of the law.

"Oh hush, I'm a great driver," Yang assured her sister.

"Eyes on the road!" Ruby screamed from the passenger seat.

"Killjoy," Yang returned her "full" attention to the road to mitigate her sister's anxiety. "You don't want to keep taking the bus do you?"

"The bus has 8 wheels," Ruby gripped her door's armrest. "Your car has four. Simple math. More wheels, less death."

"Yeah but the bus stinks and it's loud and it takes for-ev-er to get to school."

"That's because we don't run red lights!"

"It's all about timing," Yang snorted, "And FYI, I didn't 'run' a red light. The light just happened to turn red as I was crossing the intersection."

"How did you get your license again?" Ruby griped. She whimpered helplessly and Yang pushed teased 40 in a 35 zone.

"Blood, sweat, and tears," she replied.

"Both hands on the wheel!"

"Calm down Ruby," Yang sighed. "Next time, you're driving home. You need the hours anyway."

"Yang," Ruby cringed, "Please don't do this to me."

"Ah buh buh, not excuses. You're a competent driver. We'll be taking the backstreets."

"Okay," Ruby resigned herself to whatever fate came next.

"That's the spirit, now buck up. We're here."

"Two near death misses later," Ruby mumbled exiting Yang's car.

Beacon High School was roughly 10 minutes away from Yang and Ruby's house on a good day but most school day required at least a thirty minute drive. The school building itself was rather impressive; one central tower made of the most intersecting marble, near flawless, surrounded by limestone building worn from a dusty gold to a dull grey. The fountain in the courtyard was probably the second most identifiable feature. Smooth stone slabs surrounded the base and a kind of chalky rock clad its upper terraces. Various designs and shells were imprinted in it and water did not fall, it flowed.

More or less, the campus was divided. North Wing to Senior, South to Juniors, West to Sophomores and East to Freshman. There were a few teachers that dabbled in multiple grades but those were few. The main cafeteria was something. At first glance, it was a giant ugly rectangle behind the Beacon Tower, but upon further inspection, there were glyphs and inscriptions of all sorts. A wall of memories preserved in Beacon. Various names were upon that wall with countless utterings and mantras to get students through the day. Cultish as it seemed, the wall of the cafeteria was something mystical. Despite being separated from Senior to Sophomore, Yang and Ruby took the time to hang out. It was important, twice, Yang blew off practice to go with to her sister's music concert. Much to the ire of the coaches but hey, family first.

"Hey guys!" someone called out to Ruby and Yang.

"Hi Juane! Ruby jumped up and waved.

"Hey Juane-y boy," Yang shot her fellow blonde a wink.

"Have you seen Pyrrha?," he asked adjusting the straps on his baby blue backpack, "I uh, need her help in some Trig."

"Trigonometry!" Ruby beamed, "I can help Juane."

"Whaa…really?" Juane pulled out his Trig book and cocked his head at Ruby. "Since when?"

"Always," Ruby nodded, "I get bored in pre-Calculus."

"That makes no sense but it can't hurt," Juane shrugged. "To the library!" He held up his Trig book like it was a sword while advancing towards the cafeteria.

"Uh Juane," Ruby snickered, "Other way."

Juane slumped at his faux pas and mumbled and thanks. Ruby took pity and patted him on the back. "See you after school Yang. No practice right?"

"No practice," Yang confirmed, "Play nice and make good choices!"

Despite the distance, Yang knew her little sister was snickering at the comment. It was ten tons of irony coming from the most irresponsible sister ever. At least, that's what Yang thought of herself. Fifteen years of general squabbling couldn't be repaid in a mere two years. She always loved her sister, maybe she never showed it, but because of their new _circumstance_, Yang felt she had to bring her "A" game for the sake of Ruby. The poor girl wouldn't hurt a fly but here they were, about to meet one of the more uncommon difficulties in life.

Yang tried not to dwell and she pulled her zipped her brown leather jacket up and walked towards her homeroom. It felt good to feel the open air without sweating like a dog and chasing a ball. As much as she loved soccer, it was a contact sport. JV or Varsity, captain or not, she had to give it her all. Actually, Yang had a little mantra every time she played a match. If she didn't get a yellow card per game, she wasn't trying hard enough. Suffice to say, the referee's had a card specifically for her and the coaches had a shortcut for her penalties. Yang never played "dirty" but aggressive was certainly a good word.

Speaking of aggressive, a tad ounce of guilt filtered into her brain. After going off on the girl at the park, Blake, it was not unlike Yang to have at least a regret sitting in the back of her mind. Maybe she played it a bit…aggressively but come on, that comment was uncalled for. Sure, Yang flirted but nothing ever happened. Maybe a kiss if the guy was lucky but she never felt the click. That aside, Yang wondered what made that book more important that her board.

The board that ended up crack was special. The deck itself was hand shaved by her. The trucks were put in by Ruby and the minor tweeds and design was all her mother's. It was almost like a family heirloom lost in a freak accident. Yang kicked herself mentally. She did overact, not by much, but a mutual apology was owed. Come to think of it, did Blake even have classes with Yang? Maybe she'd find her during lunch.

"Earth to Yang," a voice pulled Yang out of her thoughts. "You with us or what?" A pale skinned girl with icy blue eyes gave Yang a once over.

"Hey, what's up?" Yang tried to recover as two of her friends walked beside her. The other was wearing a maroon blouse and an emerald necklace that matched her eyes.

"You had us worried there," Pyrrha smiled. "Good to see you."

"Sorry ladies, I just had a hundred and two things on my mind."

"Ooooh," Weiss smirked.

"What?"

"And two?" Weiss raised an eyebrow.

Yang threw up her hands and surrender. Even Pyrrha was giving her a look and Pyrrha hated gossip of any kind.

"What Weiss is trying to say," Pyrrha explained, "You're thinking about someone."

"I can read it on your face," Weiss stated matter-of-factly. "A hundred and one would include Ruby, but a hundred and two… Well let's just say it takes a lot for you to go off in your own world."

"Give her some space," Pyrrha frowned, "If she wants to tell us, she'll do so in her time."

"Thanks?" Yang cocked her head.

"Fine," Weiss deflated from her tirade and hummed a soft tune.

"So Yang," Pyrrha asked, "Are you thinking about joining track this year?"

"Eh heh," Yang scratched her head, "We're not all endurance heavy as you."

"Oh, okay."

"Nah, I'll try Pyrrha."

"Great! We can run the mile together."

"Woah woah, wait." Weiss said suddenly, "Pyrrha, you have vocal lessons with me."

"I'll make it, track practice is only to 5:30. Vocals are at 6:15 sharp."

"Do you know anyone here named Blake?" Yang asked abruptly. The question escaped her lips before she registered it.

"Yeah," Pyrrha answered instantly, "She's in our AP Government class."

"Uh, that was a bit in left field," Weiss noted dryly.

"Y-yeah," Yang stumbled, "I need to… repay a favor."

Weiss shot her an "_I-don't-believe-it" _look but let her slide. "Sure."

By this point, even Pyrrha's interest was peaked. "Care to share?"

Yang saw it coming and flipped the tables on her hapless red-haired friend. "Juane was looking for you this morning."

Pyrrha looked immediately stricken and redness in her cheeks matched her hair. "Oh…w-why?"

Yang ignored the question and winked at Weiss, "Arkos, it's a thing."

Immediately, she broke away from her friends and ducked into her homeroom. Although content with her sly turn of tables, Yang had something new on her mind. She remembered something Ruby always quoted and kept it heart for her confrontation with the girl named Blake. "Strangers are just friends you haven't met."

* * *

**A/N: This is a bit delayed by I promise, I'm laying the foundation for a wider story arc. Although the focus is Bumblebee, there's more to a story than two people. As a writer, I realize there's a bigger pictures. Dialogue isn't meant as filler, I'm trying to convey something more. I'm trying to flush out more of the world. Hope you enjoyed. **

**BTW: what other pairing should I include? Arkos? Noren?**

**For the sake of my story. Scarlet and Blake are related. You'll see later.**


End file.
